Tuesday of Infamy
by Michael2
Summary: Goliath and his clan deal with the aftermath of a terrorist attack on Manhattan COMPLETE
1. Attack

Tuesday of Infamy  
  
The sunset cast Manhattan with an orange glow. The shadows on the building lenghtened, until one side was completely in shadow.   
  
On a castle located on top of the tallest building in Manhattan sit some statues. Many buildings on this islands have these statues. But these statues were different.   
  
The statues on the castle start to crack, like an egg about to hatch. Then the stone breaks out, and living creatures with wings roared,m announcing to the people of Manhattan that they are awake.  
  
The lavender-skinned person- for these creatures are certainly people, capable of intelligent thought and choosing between right and wrong- who was named Goliath by some humans over one thousand twenty-five years ago, looks down from the highest parapet of the castle, which is his position as leader of the Wyvern Gargoyle Clan. He looks down upon Manhattan to the south, facing Battery Park, upon the city he has sworn to protect just as he once protected the territory of the Scottish Prince Malcolm over a millenium ago.   
  
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The usual bustle of Lower Manhattan was met with an eerie silence. The only vehicles he can see are emergency vehicles and military vehicles.  
  
He needs answers. He picks up a Motorola cellular phone he usually carries in his loincloth. He had to speak to Elisa immediately.  
  
The night before....  
  
The sunset cast Manhattan with an orange glow. The shadows on the building lenghtened, until one side was completely in shadow.   
  
On a castle located on top of the tallest building in Manhattan sit some statues. Many buildings on this islands have these statues. But these statues were different.   
  
The statues on the castle start to crack, like an egg about to hatch. Then the stone breaks out, and living creatures with wings roared,m announcing to the people of Manhattan that they are awake.  
  
The lavender-skinned person- for these creatures are certainly people, capable of intelligent thought and choosing between right and wrong- who was named Goliath by some humans over one thousand twenty-five years ago, looks down from the highest parapet of the castle, which is his position as leader of the Wyvern Gargoyle Clan. He looks down upon Manhattan to the south, facing Battery Park, upon the city he has sworn to protect just as he once protected the territory of the Scottish Prince Malcolm over a millenium ago. He looks upon the maginificent buildings, housing the offices of the financial sector. He had lived in this city for seven years, ever since a magical spell was broken when Castle Wyvern was planted on top of the Eyrie Building.   
  
The first thing he does is make a phone call on his Motorola cellular phone. The signal goes out and causes a cellular phone currently in the Twenty-Third NYPD Precinct Building to ring.  
  
"Maza here," says the voice.  
  
"Elisa," says Goliath.  
  
"Hey big guy," says Detective Elisa Maza, NYPD. "What's up?"  
  
"I just got up, my love. I'll have to assign patrol shifts to the rest of the clan."  
  
"If only the sun set an hour before my work shift," says Elisa. "Well, I guess by December, I could see you before I go to work. Well, I've got to look over some case files. I'll see you after work, okay?"  
  
Inside the detectives' office of the Twenty-Third Precinct, Elisa hangs up the cell phone. She looks at a folder containing documents related to a case that she and her partner for the past seven years have been working on.   
  
"Was that Goliath on the phone?" asks Detective Matt Bluestone.  
  
"Yeah," replies Elisa. "I told him I would see him after my shift ends at 2 A.M."  
  
"Maybe you'll get to see him sooner, when he and his clan are out patrolling the city." Matt can still remember that day six years ago, when Elisa introduced him to the clan. When she and Goliath went to Avalon, he became their contact with human society until their return.   
  
"Good evening, Detective," says Officer Morgan as he walks into the room.  
  
"Good evening, Morgan," says Elisa. "what's up?"  
  
"Well, I've got to go on patrol tonight with O' Malley," says the dark-skinned human. "I'll see you later. Here is something for you."  
  
Morgan places on a table a box from Winchell's Donuts, there were a few donuts left.  
  
"Thanks, Morgan," says Elisa, taking out a powdered donut. She then returns to the file she was working on.   
  
Suddenly, some fellow enters the detectives' office. He is Rush Simmons, a fingerprint technician. As fingerprint technicians, he compares fingerprints collected at crime scene to the NYPD fingerprint database which has records on over one hundred thousand people.  
  
"Maza, Bluestone," he says, adjusting his glasses. "We've got a break on the fingerprints we collected. They belong to a parolee named Horace Fulbert, currently residing in Harlem. Here is his address."  
  
"Well, Elisa," says Matt. "We've got probable cause. Let's roll!"  
  
And so the two detectives roll in Elisa's red Ford Fairlane. With the siren on, they weave through the traffic on Franklin Roosevelt Drive.   
  
Elisa decides to call Goliath. "Goliath, this is Elisa," she says.  
  
"What is it?" asks the clan leader.  
  
"We're coming to arrest a suspect in Harlem. Is thre anyone in the area?"  
  
"Yes. Brooklyn is patrolling near there. I'll go get him to cover you."  
  
"I hope he doesn't need to get involved," says Matt.  
  
Elisa continues driving along Franklin Roosevelt Drive towards Harlem. More than once has the Manhattan gargoyles assisted her in cases. The large plumpy one called Broadway is into detective stuff himself.   
  
They finally arrive at the place. It is a huge apartment building on 135th Street, with a liquor store and a McDonald's at the ground floor. The blue Ford Crown Victoria police cars that followed the Fairlane all park on the street, the lights flashing in red and blue.  
  
"Let's go," says Elisa.  
  
"Elisa. Matt," she hears in a small speaker she wears on the collar of her red jacket. "This is Brooklyn. I'm in position."  
  
"Just stay put," says Elisa. "Hopefully, this won't get ugly."  
  
"I could use the exercise."  
  
Elisa, Matt, and the police officers go into the building until they reach Horace Fulbert's apartment. Matt knocks on the door.  
  
A beer-bellied man wearing a sleeveless white shirt and boxers opens the door. "What is it?" he asks. Then he sees the badges. "Aw, man."  
  
"You're under arrest for burglary and larceny," says Elisa. "You have the right to remain silent. You have the right to an attorney. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. If you can not afford an attorney, one will be provided for you."  
  
"But you already know that," says Matt. "It looks like you'll be going to Attica once again."  
  
The police officers take Horace Fulbert into custody and then they drive out, leaving Elisa and Matt. After the uniformed officers leave, a rbrick-red beaked gargoyle glides down.  
  
"Well, I guess you got him," says the gargoyle Brooklyn.  
  
"I gurss he knew of your reputation," says Matt. "He just put his hands up quietly."  
  
"Well, I like nights like this," says Elisa. "It sure beats dealing with cyborgs, mutates, renegade fay, and such."  
  
"I still have to finish by patrol. See you later."  
  
"Okay," both of the detectives say. they watch the brick-red gargoyle scale a building and then open his wings and glide above the streets of Harlem.  
  
A black Honda Civic is parked on Forty-Eight Street, just a few blocks east of Rockefeller Center. There is nothing remarkable about the car.   
  
But three people have decided to steal this particular car. They have had experience in stealing cars. Often, the cars are gone in less than sixty seconds.  
  
One ofd the thieves, a small wiry fellow, takes out a lockpick and starts to undo the lock. He will then hotwire the car, and then just like that he will take the car to a chop shop near the Hudson River. The two bigger fellows stand watch, in case someone like a police officer walks by.   
  
But then, something swoops in fast, and takes out the two of them. The lockpicker looks up. He sees someone with webbed wings dressed in a loincloth.  
  
"You're a gargoyle!" shouts the lockpicker.  
  
"And you're a human," says the web-winged gargoyle.   
  
One of the two humans knocked down by the gargoyle gets up and takes out this mean-looking knife to stab the small gargoyle. But the gargoyle just hits the guy ibn the face wityh his elbow. He then turns his attention to the last of the car thieves, who is looking pretty scared.  
  
"You ain't done no good, ya freak!" shouts the wiry car thief. "I know how the courts work; I watch Law and Order. We'll be out of jail 'cuz there's no evidence."  
  
"Is that so?" asks the gargoyle.  
  
Minutes later, a police car arrives and two police officers come out and look at the car thieves who are tied up.   
  
"Hey Morgan," says the officer named O' Malley, "someone left a note on the windshield of the car."  
  
"Let me see," says Officer Morgan. He reads the note. "Dear NYPD. I have caught these three humans trying to steal this car. I have also enclosed some photographs which should incriminate them. -Mr. Lexington."  
  
On the rooftop above Forty-Eight Street, the olvie-skinned gargoiyle whose namwe is called Lexington looks down on the scene, and then holds the Polaroid camera designed with a telescopic zoom lens. He had checked the photographs before putting them on the windshield for the police to find; they clearly identify the thieves.   
  
"Goliath, this is Lexington," the gargiyle says into his radio. "I've just caught some car thieves on Forty-Eight."  
  
"Very well, Lexington," says Goliath. "Continue your patrol until your shift is over."  
  
For the two gargoyles known as Broadway and Angela, patrolling and dating are equivalents. Manhattan can looks so lovely at night, with the buildings and streets lit up to look like a field of stars dotting the surface of the Earth. The two of them hold hands as the air currents under their wings keep them aloft.   
  
"How about we see a movie after our shift is over?" asks Boradway as he and his mate land on a rooftop.  
  
"We've seen all the movies already," replies Angela.   
  
"Then we can go to a theater or something."  
  
The moment they look down, they see something. they see a human being chased by a whole bunch of other humans. The humans giving chase are mean-looking.  
  
"Let's see what that's about," says Angela.  
  
The tww of them glide above the humans, keeping watch. The human being chased goes right into an alley, and right into a dead end. The other humans look like they intend to harm the human.  
  
The two gargoyles land in the alley. All of the humans are surprised to find a large, blue gargoyle and a slender, levednaer garoglye with brown hair land suddenly among them. Their anger turns into shciok.  
  
"What are you doing?" asks Broadway.  
  
"This punk here slashed the tires on my Harley!" shouts a bearded man with tinted eyeglasses. "We're gonna teach 'im a lesson!"  
  
Angela looks at the human who was being chased by these other humans. "Did you vandalize his Harley?" she asks.  
  
The human seems to havbe diffiuculty looking into the gargoyle's eyes. "Okay, okay, I confess!" he shouts. "I slashed his tries. Just don't let them hurt me."  
  
"I think we'll be turning you over to the police," says Angela.  
  
"Not until we're done with him!" shouts the human whose motorcycle tires were slashed just minutes ago. "he's gonna pay for it."  
  
"So sue him," says Broadway.   
  
"This ain't your business, freak!" shouts another human.  
  
"He surrendered," says Angela. "Now the law should handle it."  
  
Then red lights flash. The humans see a red Ford Fairlane which a white roof. Two people dressed in plainclothes walk out.  
  
"What's the situation?" asks the raven-haried woman who came out of the driver;'s seat.  
  
"This human vandalized a motorcycle," says Angela.   
  
"He's not wearing gloves," says Broadway. "His fingerprints should be on the motorcycle."  
  
"Thanks," says the red-haired man. He walks up to the human who was accused of vandalism. "If we find your prints where these two gargoyles said they were, you'll wish they dealt with you instead."  
  
Back inside the Twenty-Third Precinct, Detectives Maza and Bluestone both interrogate Horace Fulbert.  
  
"You're in big trouble, Horace," says Elisa. "But we want to help. There was one set of footprints unaccounted for. We know you have a partner. Turn him in, and we can ask for leniency when you come up before a judge."  
  
"I know nothing," says Horace. "I ain't gonna talk until I get my lawyer."  
  
"So we'll talk, you stupid punk!" shouts Matt. "If you don't talk, then we'll mention to your parole officer that you aren't cooperating with us! Cooperation with us is a condition of your parole; we can have your parole revoked."  
  
"I ain't talking."  
  
"Forget it, Matt," says Elisa. "Let's just go."  
  
The two detectives walk out while a uniformed police officer takes Horace back to the holding cells in the basement level.  
  
They meet upo with a browbn-harired woman wearing a blue suit.  
  
"What's up, Captain?" asks Elisa.  
  
"You're going to go to a stakeout," says Captain Maria Chavez. "We finally located that chop shop. Some officers from another precinct will provide backup."  
  
On a rooftop on a building near Twelfth Avenue near the Hudson River bank in Manhattan, Goliath glides down, his taloned feet touching the surface. He can see Elisa's car and the NYPD cars arriving at the scene.   
  
"Okay, Elisa," he says. "I'm in position. I can see you clearly. The rest of the clan is on their way." He looks and sees Elisa and Matt wave.   
  
Down below, Elisa and Matt knock on the warehiouse door. "Police!" shouts Matt. "We have a warrant!"  
  
they are answered when a Lincoln Town Car breaks through the wooden walls of the warehiouse and then speed east on Fifty-First Street. Elisa and Matt get into the Fairlane and drive off, with the other police cars giving chase. Goliath glides in pursuit. He notices that the Lincoln is gojng the wrong way on a one-way street.   
  
Fortunately, the air currents give him a much-needed boost. He manages to zoom past the police cars and the Lincoln Town Car. He then glides down, and he lands on the hood of the black Lincoln.   
  
The driver of the Lincoln, surprised by the sudden appearance of a gargoyle, swerves around. Then he feels a big jolt and hears a crunch as the Lincoln strikes a metal pole on a street corner near the Howard Johnson Plaza Hotel. The police cars all stop at the intersection, and police officers draw their revolvers.   
  
they are all pointing at the gargoyle.  
  
"Wait!" shouts Elisa. "He's not the thief."  
  
"Stand down!" shouts a pepper-haired police sergeant. "We're not after the gargoyle."  
  
As Matt cuffs the thief, Elisa looks upon the police sergeant. "Sergeant Rabb?" she asks.  
  
"Elisa," says Sergeant Rabb. "Good to see you again."  
  
Some more gargoyles glide down to meet with their leader.   
  
"Friends of yours?" asks Rabb.  
  
"Yeah," says Elisa. "They've helped me and Matt out on a few cases."  
  
Rabb approaches the big lavender gargoyle. "Hello, I am Sergeant Daniel Rabb, NYPD."  
  
"I am called Goliath," says the gargoyle. "How long have you known Elisa?"  
  
"I've known her since I babysat her and her brother and sister. I used to work with her dad. I'm a close friend of the family."  
  
"Hello there," says Matt. "I'm Matt Bluestone, Elisa's partner. You knew Elisa since she was a girl?"  
  
"Yup," says Rabb. "between me and her dad, it's no surprise she joined the force."  
  
"Maybe we'll run into each other again," says Elisa.  
  
Rabb addresses the gargoyles who gathered on this intersection. "I know that a lot of New Yorkers still fear you guys," he says. "But I've known that you're on our side. Elisa Maza here just confirmed it."  
  
"Thnak you," says Goliath.  
  
"Nice to hear from you," says Lexington.  
  
The gargoyles then scale a building and glide out.  
  
Elisa Maza rides an elevator in the Eyrie Building all the way to Castle Wyvern which sits atop the skyscraper. The elevator reaches the castle level and the doors open, leading to the courtyard. He walks through the courtyard,m through the castle's great hall, and into the gargoyles's living quarters. Every step into this castle is like stepping back one thousand years in time.   
  
Onr thousand years ago, Castle Wyvern was a ruin, sacked by the Vikings in 994. The humans who lived in Wyvern fled south. Only six stone gargoyles sat on the castle. It was in 1993 that the castle was purchased by David Xanatos. In 1994, the castle was reassembled atop the Eyrie Building, and the stone gargoyles woke up again.   
  
Elisa enters the gargoyles' quarters, and she sees a leather-skinned gargoyle and some four-legged beast.  
  
"Elisa," says the gargoyle named Hudson. "Good to see ya here, lass."  
  
"Is Goliath here?" asks the detective.  
  
"Aye, he returned from patrol a few minutes ago. He's been expecting ye."  
  
The blue gargoyle beast-Bronx-nudgled against Elisa's right leg.  
  
"So you missed me too," she says. Though Bronx is an animal like a dog or a horse, he has gotten her and the gargoyle clan out of some tight spots. "Good to see you, boy."  
  
She glanced at Hudson, who appeared older than the other gargoyles, in spiute of the fact that his aging process was suspended for one thousand years. His left eye is blind, having been critically injured in a battle with an old foe known as the Archmage. David Xanatos once offered to have the eye replaced, but the stubborn veteran turned him down.  
  
Goliath and Elisa eat their dinner inside the clan's dining room. Dinner is steak, which was cooked by Broadway.  
  
"What will you doing doing during the day?" asks Goliath.  
  
"Well, tomorrow afternoon I am scheduled to give a deposition in a court case. Margot Yale will be the prosecutor."  
  
Goliath winced. He and his clan had a few less-than-pleasant encounters with the woman.  
  
"I know, Goliath. I'd rather face the Pack head on than face questioning from Yale."  
  
The Pack is locked away in a maximum-security cell block in Attica State Prison. Tony Dracon was also serving time in that same prison, with his underlings reduced to running small-time operations like the car theft ring busted a few hours ago. Thailog and Demona have apparently left the country to pursue their goals elsewhere. The renegade fay factions are hiding around the world from the wrath of the fay king Oberon.  
  
"How long have you known that officer you were talking to earlier?" asks Goliath.  
  
"Sergeant Rabb?" says Elisa. "Well, he used to babysit me. He must have told you he worked with my dad. I last saw hikm a few months ago while working on a case with Matt."  
  
"He mentioned that earlier. Does he have a family?"  
  
"Yeah, he's married and has three kids. Two boys and a girl. They're all grown up now."  
  
"Let us just enjoy this moment, my love," says Goliath as he pours wine into a wineglass."  
  
"How about we have dinner at my place tomorrow night?" asks Elisa.  
  
"I would love it."  
  
The sky is getting brighter and brighter with the sun about to rise. The gargoyles take their usual positions on the hgihest tower of Castle Wyvern. Goliath steps on the top of the tower, looking towards the south as he always does whenever he is at Castle Wyvern at dawn.  
  
"See you tonight," says Elisa.  
  
"I'll look forward top waking up, my love," says Goliath. Then the sun rises. Goliath's skin becomes hard like stone and then he becomes indistinguishable from the other statuary in Manhattan.  
  
Elisa yawns. "Time to get some sleep," she says. She rides the elevator down to the lobby of the Eyrie and then drives home.  
  
A telephone call wakes up Elisa. She brushes a few strands of her black hair off her face and answers the phone.  
  
"Hello?" she asks, still feeling a little sleepy.  
  
"This is Captain Chavez," says the voice on the phone. "There's an emergency and all available units are needed. Dress up and head to the World Trade Center. There was an explosion there."  
  
"WHAT!!!" shouts Elisa, upon hearing the news. "I'm going over there right now!"  
  
Minutes later, the siren wailing and lights flashing, Elisa and her Ford Fairlane arrive at the corner of Trinity Place and Liberty Street in Lower Manhattan. Officer Morgan is there to greet her.  
  
"What happened?" she asks.  
  
"A plane crashed into the North Tower!" shouts Morgan. "We're evacuating the whole place."  
  
Elisa looks out and sees smoke. It comes from the north tower of the World Trade Center. On the street, there are a bunch of fire trucks around. The police had already erected a barricade on the streets leading to the place. The whole sight looks surreal.  
  
She remembers than the ascent and descent approaches to John F. Kennedy International Airport pass over southern Manhattan.   
  
"Elisa," says Detective Matt Bluestone. "You made it. It looks terrible."  
  
"What kind of plane hit the tower?"  
  
"Judging from all the fire and smoke, a big one," says Matt. It could have been one of those big cargo or passenger planes."  
  
"I guess it was either coming from or going to JFK," says Officer O' Malley.   
  
Another police car arrives, and Captain Maria Chavez comes out and flashes her badge. "You're all here," she says. She looks at the fire and smoke high up in the north tower. "It even looks worse here."  
  
"The Fire Department and some police officers are assisting with the evacuation," says Morgan. "The fire chief himself came down here to direct the rescue operations."  
  
Elisa looks and sees a news van stop near the barricade. She recognizes the TV reporter Travis Marshall.   
  
"Elisa," says Sergeant Rabb, who had just arrived at the scene. "You're here. I heard what happened. It looks terrible."  
  
She looks up at the burning section of the skyscraper. "Yeah," she says. "The pilots, the crew, maybe the passengers."  
  
She sees another plane flying nearby, probably approaching JFK for a landing. For a second she wonders why JFK did not reroute other incoming flights; surely they would have heard about a plane crashing into the World Trade Center.  
  
Then she sees the plane is flying too low for an approach to JFK. She can see the livery on the fuselage, which identifies it as a commercial airliner.   
  
Then she sees the plane slam right into the south tower. Flames erupt from where the plane struck the building.  
  
"This isn't an accident," she says with shock. "This is an attack!"  
  
Everyone at the scene is now looking at the south tower, which had just been struck by an airplane. They realize that this is no coincidence, but an attack, an act of war.  
  
"How could they be doing this?" asks Matt.  
  
Then they hear a crash. they all look, and see that a man on top of a police car, the roof crushed. He must have been on a floor above the impact, and he must have jumped off to avoid being burned to death.  
  
"Listen," says Chavez. "We've got to get those people out of there now! Who knows how many more planes will be crashing?"  
  
Elisa and Matt and some other police officers and firefighters get inside the north tower's lobby. They can already see some people, who had gone to work this Tuesday morning, now fleeing the tower. There were some high-ranking police officers and firefighters who set up shop inside the north tower to direct rescue operations. Elisa and Matt hear which floors have not been cleared.   
  
The elevators are not working, so they climb up the stairwells to look for survivors.  
  
"Everyone exit in an orderly fashion," announces Matt, holding up his NYPD badge.   
  
They exit the stairwell and search the offices. They see a woman in a wheelchair.  
  
"We're evacuating the building, ma'am," says Elisa. "We've got to get you out."  
  
Elisa holds up the woman while Matt takes down the wheelchair. Together, they go down the flight of stairs as fast as they can, until they reach the lobby. The woman is put back on her wheelchair and the paramedics on the scene take her from there.  
  
Seconds later, Elisa and Matt head back into the north tower.  
  
The building was still being evacuated; people were still loving down the stairs to the safety of the lobby. Elisa remembers that over ten thousand people work in the two towers every day. She hears talk from the firefighters about a helicopter rescue for those trapped in the upper floors.   
  
"We still haven't checked this floor," says a firefighter. He, Elisa, Matt, and the other firefighters and police officers gom in to check the floor.   
  
They go search the offices and the restrooms and even the custodian closets for anyone who might be trapped in the tower.   
  
"It's clear," says a police sergeant.  
  
Then the whole world, the whole universe crashes upon them. 


	2. Aftermath

Travis Marshall stands in front of the police barricade. He had arrived here the moment the explosion at the north tower was reported. For the past hour or so, he had been maintaining his calm even with all the activity going on.  
  
"This is Travis Marshall," he says as a cameraman aims a television camera at him. "If you are just joining us, two airplanes had struck each tower of the World Trade Center. The police has placed a barricade which I am standing in front of. With me here is Fire Captain Stan Cartman."  
  
"We still have no finished our evacuation of the two towers," says Captain Cartman. "The smoke from the flames is preventing us from airlifting those people trapped on the upper floors. Chief Ganci is on the scene directing the rescue efforts. We..."  
  
"Look!" shouts the cameraman.  
  
The TV reporter and the FDNY captain both look towards the World Trade Center. One of the towers seem to be shrinking.  
  
"It's collapsing!" shouts Travis. He, his news crew, and the fiorefighters and police officers at the barricade all see a white cloud of dust flowing in every direction as the north tower collapses. The dust overtakes them and clouds everything, reducing visibility to zero.  
  
"This is Travis Marshall!" shouts the reporter. "One of the Trade Center towers had just collapsed! There's all this dust around here. Switch to our news copter up in the air now!"  
  
It takes a few minutes for the dust to clear. Their initial assessment of the situation is confirmed. Only the south tower of the World Trade Center stands now, with flames erupting from the spot where the commercial airliner struck it.   
  
"Once again!" shouts the reporter, wipiong the dust off his suit. "the North Tower had just collapsed."  
  
There is utter silence at the barricade, except for the sounds of cameras taking pictures. No one, not Travis Marshall, the other TV reporters, or reporters from the New York Times or the New York Post, say a word.  
  
"Is everyone all right?" shouts Captain Maria Chavez as soon as the dust settles down enough that she could see down the block. She knows, even with the dust obscuring her vision, that the north tower of the World Trade Center had just collapsed due to the damge to its structure from the collision.  
  
"I'm here," says Officer Morgan.   
  
"So am I," says Officer O' Malley.   
  
An FDNY sergeant looks at the huge pile of rubble. "Okay, there may be survivors!" he shouts. "Let's go check." Several firefighters go to the rubble to look for anyone who may have survived the tower's collapse.  
  
Captain Chavez looks around. Everything in sight is coated in a fine layer of dust, including herself. Firefighters are speaking into radios and cell phones, probnably asking for heacvy equipment to remove the rubble and recover survivors-or dead bodies. On the ground is pieces of broken glass and concrete. The south tower is still burning, and the fire department is stepping up its rescue efforts now that the risk for the south tower's collapse is greater.   
  
She does not see Detectives Maza or Bluestone anywhere.   
  
"Maza!" she shouts. "Bluestone! Come here at once."  
  
She approaches Officer Morgan. "Have you seen Maza or Bluestone?" she asks.  
  
"No," replies the veteran officer. "Last time I saw them they were heading into....oh my God."  
  
The horror of Morgan's words pierce Captain Chavez into her very soul. She had known both of them for at least eight years. Now she does not even know whether or not either of them are alive under the rubble.   
  
She looks towards the rubble and sees the dust-coated firefighters. She approaches them.  
  
"Any survivors?" she asks.  
  
"The chief and some of us just got out," says one of the firefighters. "We were lucky."  
  
Chavez approaches Fire Chief Peter Ganci. "Did you see two plainclothes detectives while you were inside?" she asks.  
  
"I can't say," replies the fire chief. "But if I could survive under the rubble, maybe they have a chance. I'm going to the other tower to finish the evacuation."  
  
Chavez smiles. Being familiar with Maza and Bluestone, she knows that they can survive a pile of rubble.   
  
But can they survive down there? Air would be running out for them. How deeply buried are they?  
  
All she can do is wait and hope that everyone in the south tower can be evacuated before its collapse. Already, people are being led out by firefighters and police officers. Some of those police officers are assigned to the Twenty-Third Precinct.   
  
Officers Morgan and O'Malley come out with three people-two women and a man.   
  
"any word on Elisa?" asks Morgan.  
  
"No, they still haven't found her," replies Chavez.  
  
"Are you sure she's under that rubble?" asks O'Malley.  
  
Then thunder can be heard. The three of them look, and see that the south tower is shrinking.   
  
the tower is collapsing.  
  
Soon, the whole place is once again clouded in dust.  
  
"The south tower of the World Trade Center has just collapsed," says Travis Marshall. "The Fire Department has now begun rescue operations. Our prayers go to those who were killed in this tragedy."  
  
David Xanatos turns off the huge television in his office. He looks out, and sees smoke coming from where the World Trade Center stood just this morning.   
  
His wife Fox is there, along with his five-year-old son Alexander. No one in the office says anything.  
  
Owen Burnett, the personal aide to Xanatos, breaks the silence. "Sir, it may be wise to get in the helicopter and fly to Xanadu," he says in a monotone voice.   
  
"Why do you think that is necessary?" he asks.   
  
"This is clearly an attack of some kind, sir."  
  
"Alexander is here, Owen. If there is any threat here, you can transform into Puck and deal with it."  
  
"If they choose to fly an airplane into the castle, I would not survive long enough to transform into Puck. None of us would survive."  
  
"What of the gargoyles?"  
  
"They are all somewhat safe on the tower of the castle, looking towards the Trade Center."  
  
"Who did this, Daddy?" asks Alexander.  
  
"I don't know," says David. He contonues to look towards the site of the World Trade Center.   
  
The telephone rings. Fox picks it up. "It's for you," she says to her husband.  
  
David picks it up. "Yes?...Hello, Pop......No, I'm not all right.....I'm not injured, but I can't say that any of us is all right......I wish I knew......The gargoyles? They're all here. They'll want answers when they wake up.....Goodbye, Pop."  
  
He looks out through the window. Not since Oberon tried to kidnap his son five years ago did he feel so vulnerable, so helpless.   
  
A taloned fist hits a wooden table located in a palace in Ishimura, Japan.  
  
"They couldn't have done this!" shouted Yama after viewing the initial reports of the attack on New York City. there are reports of a second attack on the Pentagon, which is the headquarters of the U.S. military.  
  
"Our ancestors battled barbarians inavading this land," says the Ishimura Gargoyle Clan Leader Kai, the anger still boiling his blood. "We may have to do the same."  
  
In a block of flats in London, England, Arthur Pendragon walks up to a ledge where his gargoyle knight Griff sleeps in stone. He holds his sword Excalibur.   
  
"I've seen many tragedies in my life," he says. "But none measure up to the cowardly act that happened across the sea."  
  
He looks at Excalibur. It may have to shed blood again.  
  
"All of our forces have just been mobilized, sir," says the New Olympian guard.  
  
"Very good," says Taurus, the security chief of New Olympus.  
  
He looks at news broadcasts of the events in New York City and Arlington. The broadcasts were replaying images of the burning towers and their collapse. He heard statements from the President of the United States and the Mayor of New York City.   
  
He sits down and places the chin of his bull head on his right hand. For at least ten thiusand years, New Olympus had isolated itself from the rest of the world. But one year ago, a team of diplomats from New Olympus appeared at the United Nations Headquarters in New York to announce their presence in the world and open formal relations with the nations of humanity. At that moment, they became part of the world.  
  
New Olympus, usually bustling with activity, is quieter, except for the heavier-than-usual presence of security forces. There is no telling whom the next target will be.   
  
The images of the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Arlington, Virginia are now broadcast on television sets all over the world. By now it is clear that this was a terrorist attack on a massive scale. There are also reports of a United Airlines flight which crashed in the Pennsylvania countryside.   
  
Peter and Diane Maza watch the events, like almost everyone else in the world, from their home in Queens, New York. The big-screen television has been on for hours, ever since the first images of the burning towers appeared.  
  
The sound of the news broadcasts are interrupted with the ring of a telephone.  
  
"I'll answer it," says Diane. "Elisa may be calling."  
  
"I hope she's okay," replies Peter.  
  
She and her husband had tried to call Elisa on her cell phone as well as in her home and office, but there is no response. She must be busy with all the stuff happening at the World Trade Center.   
  
"Hello?" she asks.  
  
"Mrs. Maza, this is Captain Chavez," says the voice.   
  
"Is there something wrong?"  
  
"Elisa Maza was assisting in the rescue operations after the planes hit. We couldn't find her after the towers collapsed. We believe she is still buried under the rubble. The firefighters are still trying to look for survivors."  
  
Diane drops the telephone handset, leaving it hanging by the cord.  
  
The sunset cast Manhattan with an orange glow. The shadows on the building lenghtened, until one side was completely in shadow.   
  
On a castle located on top of the tallest building in Manhattan sit some statues. Many buildings on this islands have these statues. But these statues were different.   
  
The statues on the castle start to crack, like an egg about to hatch. Then the stone breaks out, and living creatures with wings roared,m announcing to the people of Manhattan that they are awake.  
  
The lavender-skinned person- for these creatures are certainly people, capable of intelligent thought and choosing between right and wrong- who was named Goliath by some humans over one thousand twenty-five years ago, looks down from the highest parapet of the castle, which is his position as leader of the Wyvern Gargoyle Clan. He looks down upon Manhattan to the south, facing Battery Park, upon the city he has sworn to protect just as he once protected the territory of the Scottish Prince Malcolm over a millenium ago.   
  
Something was wrong, terribly wrong. The usual bustle of Lower Manhattan was met with an eerie silence. The only vehicles he can see are emergency vehicles and military vehicles.  
  
He needs answers. He picks up a Motorola cellular phone he usually carries in his loincloth. He had to speak to Elisa immediately.  
  
The telephone rings, but there is no answer. Goliath tries Elisa's home number.   
  
"Hey, Elisa Maza here," says the voice.  
  
"Elisa, this is Goliath," says the gargoyle clan leader. "I need you to explain..."  
  
"I can't come to the phone right now. If you'll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll get to you as soon as I can."  
  
Goliath jumps down to the lower balcony where the rest of the clan is. They too, are looking at the site of the World Trade Center; the towers are gone and there are all sorts of emergency vehicles parked on the adjacent streets.   
  
"What happened?" asks Brooklyn. "Did you talk to Elisa?"  
  
"She is not answering her phone," says Goliath.  
  
"Maybe she's over there," says Boradway, pointing at the World Trade Center site.  
  
"We'll need to know what is going on first," says Goliath. "Let's go."  
  
the entire Wyvern Clan enters through a door in the tower. They walk through the halls of the castle and take an elevator down. They finally reach an office.  
  
"I was expecting you," says David Xanatos as he looks upon the gargoyle clan which had just awakened to chaos.  
  
"What happened?" asks Goliath.  
  
Xanatos looks right into the gargoyle leader's eyes and hesitates for a moment. "Terrorists hijacked three planes. Two of the planes were crashed into the World Trade Center, and a third plane was crashed into the Pentagon. Thousands of people are believed to be dead."  
  
Shock suddenly fills the souls of the gargoyles, followed by sorrow. They watch the television which is inside an alcove in the wall.  
  
"This is Travis Marshall," says the TV reporter. "As you know by now, the World Trade Center collapsed after being hit by hijacked airplanes. I have here one of the survivors who was working in this south tower when the plane hit."  
  
"I was in my office in the World Trade Center," says the man identified as Brendan Yale. "The fire alarm went on, and I heard the the other tower was hit by an airplane. I was walking down the stairs, and then I felt a jolt, like the building was shaking. When I finally got down, they told me that the tower I was working in was hit, and it was no accident."  
  
The gargoyles look at the broadcast. They have had a few less-than-pleasant encounters with Brendan Yale and his wife Margot. He was touched by this tragedy.  
  
"Hey!" shouts Angela. "I heard about Elisa!"  
  
"What is it?" asks Broadway.  
  
"I called the police station where Elisa works at," she says. "She's missing. She's underneath the rubble."  
  
"Then we know what we must do," Goliath says grimly. He and the clan leave Xanatos's office. Xanatos looks out the window, and see the gargoyles gliding to the World Trade Center site.   
  
"I had never seen anything so horrible," says Angela less than a minute after setting her taloned feet on the roof of the Millenium Hilton just across the street from the World Trade Center.   
  
"I have," says Goliath. The feelings of sorrow, despair, and raw pain that have not surfaced in one thousand seven years now boil with great fury as he looks at the remains of the towers and remembers Xanatos's description of what happened. Not even Xanatos during his worst days would have done such a thing. Then rage boils in his very soul.   
  
He growls as loudly as he did one thousand seven years ago, his eyes blazing white. The firefighters, police officers, and soldiers at the site all hear his inhuman scream.  
  
Goliath and his clan now glide down to the site, startling the humans there. A New York Army National Guard soldier aims his M-16 at the gargoyles.  
  
"Hold it!" shouts Officer Morgan. "They're on our side."  
  
The soldier lowers his M-16.  
  
The gargoyles use their great natural strength to remove the pieces of steel and concrete burying those who were caught in the collapse. Each piece of the tower, which was installed over thirty years ago, is now cast aside in the search for survivors. The resuce workers assist the clan as photgraphers take pictures.   
  
"We found one!" shouts Brooklyn. Goliath looks and sees one of the humans who was buried in the collapse. Paramedics take the man to an ambulance.   
  
The gaegoyles are now focused on their task of uncovering survivors in the rubble. Two more survivors are pulled out. Three people are found dead. Goliath continues to dig through the rubble. He sees a face.   
  
"Elisa," he says. He checks for a pulse. "She's alive."   
  
"What is it?" asks a firefighter.  
  
"She's alive!" shouts the gargoyle leader.  
  
"I'll take her from here."  
  
"Hey!" shouts Broadway. "We found Matt! He's still alive!"  
  
"Do we follow Elisa and Matt?" asks Angela.  
  
"Not yet," replies Goliath. "We stay here and help these humans."  
  
Elisa Maza wakes up and stares right at a white ceiling. She immediately notices that this is not her apartment.   
  
"You're awake," says a man in a white uniform.   
  
"Where am I?" she asks.  
  
"You're at Manhattan General. We took you from the ICU after it looked like you would live. Rescue workers pulled you out of the rubble."  
  
"The rubble?" asks Elisa. This means that the whole thing- seeing the World Trade Center towers on fire, seeing that plane hit the second tower, is not a dream. It was reality. "No, it can't be."  
  
She turns on the Magnavox television in the room. The television shows a news report. Elisa quickly finds out that terrorists hijacked four planes, two of which crashed into the World Trade Center, one that crashed into the Pentagon, and one that crashed in the Pennsylvania countryside. She feels a bandage on her head.   
  
Three people walk into the room; Elisa recognizes them as her parents and Captain Maria Chavez.  
  
"Elisa," says her mother Diane, "I'm glad you're all right."  
  
"Good to see you alive here," says her father Peter.  
  
"You might want to know that Detective Bluestone also made it," says Chavez. "The doctors say you'll need to rest for one more day."  
  
"I remember when those Hunters struck the police station," says Peter. "I remember your mother and I feeling lucky that you weren't in there when it happened."  
  
"Have you heard what happened, Elisa?" asks Diane.  
  
"Yeah, it's on every channel," replies her daughter. "Did you tell Derek and Beth the news?"  
  
"Yes, we have. They're still shocked over what just happened today."  
  
"Well," says Chavez, "I'm glad you are all right. It's been a long night for me. I'll expect to see you Thursday."  
  
"Don't worry, Captain," says Elisa. "I'll be on my feet by sunset tomorrow."  
  
Elisa, Peter, and Diane then see an image of the rescue efforts on the television. They all see the gargoyles at the ruins of the towers, pulling away the rubble.  
  
"I guess your gargoyle friends have decided to pitch in," says Diane.  
  
"It's what they do," says Elisa. She looks to a window and sees a winged figure.   
  
"It's Goliath," she says.   
  
The window opens, and Goliath and Brooklyn step down.   
  
"Elisa," says Goliath, "you're all right."  
  
"As all right as anyone who was retrieved from the rubble of a skyscraper can be," says Elisa. "As all right as anyone who witnessed this terrible attack. I saw the plane crash into the other tower."  
  
"I was assisting with the rescue operations," says Brooklyn. "I found other survivors."  
  
"That's good," says Peter.   
  
"But I also found those who were dead, either from the fire or from the falling debris. Some of them worked in the building, others were firefighters and police who came to help. You were lucky, Elisa. We were all lucky."Tears flowed from his eyes down his beak. His eyes then glowed white. "They didn't deserve this1 They were slaughtered just like my clan!"  
  
"I'd like to speak with Goliath alone," says Elisa.   
  
"Brooklyn, I suggest you check on Matt Bluestone," says Goliath.   
  
Peter, Diane, and Brooklyn all leave the room. Goliath stays with his love.   
  
"I was awake for a few hours under the rubble," says Elisa. "I was completely trapped. I could not move. I didn't know if Matt was alive or dead. I was afraid. I was afraid that I would suffocate to death under all that rubble. I was afraid I'd never see you or anyone I love again. And I was afraid that you would be the next target."  
  
"That is the way it should be," says Goliath, "for humans and gargoyles."  
  
"But then I knew I had to survive. I've even faced off against the king of the fay and those who rebelled against him. I couldn;t let myself die under the rubble, alone. I had to make it. I kept going until I could not go on anymore. Before I woke up in the hospital, I had a vision of you."  
  
"Perhaps because I pulled you out of the rubble," says Goliath.  
  
"You did that?"  
  
"Even though the police and the National Guard might fire upon me and the clan, we could not abandon you. We could not abandon our protectorate. We had to act."  
  
"It has been confirmed that the fire chief is dead," says the TV reporter. His statement catches Goliath and Elisa's attention, and they listen intently. "Chief Peter Ganci was directing rescue operations in the south tower when it collapsed. He was recovered and pronounced dead. Chief Ganci had served the Fire Department for more than thirty years. This day will never be forgotten by any of the firefighters alive today. Our prayers go out to his family."  
  
"How many more perished?" asks Goliath. He looks to the open window. "I'm going to continue with the rescue operations."  
  
At about 5:30 A.M., Elisa is greeted by the clan, who had just finished assisting the FDNY and the New York National Guard in the rescue efforts in southern Manhattan.   
  
"Are you all right, Elisa?" asks Angela.  
  
"I can't say that I am, but I'm not seriously injured," says the detective. "I should be able to return to work tomorrow."  
  
"Aye, lass," says Hudson, "You're lucky to have survived. I've seen too much death in my long life."  
  
"You're lucky that the people behind these attacks didn't target the castle."  
  
"Elisa," says Lexington, "I brought you something." He presents a small model of the helicopter the clan uses to fly to locations too far for gliding. "I worked on this for a week, and I just completed it yesterday, just before the attack. I'd like you to have it."  
  
"Thanks," says Elisa, holding up the helicopter.  
  
"Maybe I could get you something to eat," says Broadway.   
  
"I'm not hungry. You know, my first case as a detective was in the World Trade Center back in 1993. There was an explosion, and I was sent there to investigate. It was also Derek's first assignment as a helicopter pilot. I could still remember the shock I felt when I went there."  
  
"The sun's about to rise," says Goliath. "We should roost on the roof."  
  
The clan leave the room and go on top of the roof of Manhattan General Hospital, They all face towards the World Trade Center site. Then the sun comes up and they all turn to stone.  
  
At about mid-morning, a man enters the Eyrie Building to meet with David Xanatos. After security clears him, he rides an elevator to Castle Wyvern which is the headquarters of Xanatos Enterprises.   
  
"Mr. Duval," says Owen Burnett, "Please come in."  
  
"I'll be speaking to your boss alone," says Duval, "Puck."  
  
Duval enters the office where David Xanatos waits. He presents his Illuminati pin.   
  
"I take it that you are here concerning recent events," says Xanatos.  
  
"That is right, Xanatos. I was meeting with the High Council, as well as members of the NSA, the CIA, and the U.S. House and Senate who are Illuminati."  
  
"Were you behind this attack?" David asks bluntly. "If I find out that you are, I will spare nothing to make you pay."  
  
"This attack is in contradiction with our long term goals, Xanatos. But we know who was behind it. Our contacts in the CIA, Defense Department, and White House will provide proof to the President."  
  
"So tell me, who was behind it?"  
  
"This man," says Duval, presenting a headshot of a man wearing a long beard and a turban. "His name is Osama bin Laden. He leads a terrorist group known as Al Qaeda. Al Qaeda currently has a safe house in Afghanistan, provided by the Taliban regime. They were the ones behind the 1993 bombing, as well as the 1996 Khobar towers bombing, the 1998 American embassy bombings, and the 2000 bombing of the U.S.S. Cole in Yemen."  
  
"How powerful are they?"  
  
"They has access to billions of dollars. They have cells all over the world, and we suspectthey have magical resources."  
  
"So why are you telling me all this?"  
  
"We would ask Owen to turn into Puck and assist us, but we know he had a falling out with his lord and king, and as such is stuck as Owen. I came here to recruit the gargoyle clan."  
  
"You want the gargoyles to fight these terrorists? I mean, they swore to protect Manhattan, they may not be cool with the idea of going to a foreign country and leaving their protectorate behind."  
  
"Convince them, Xanatos. We'll provide you with all the intelligence we have on Al Qaeda and the evidence that they perpetrated yesterday's attack. They have gone too far; they must be wiped out from the face of the Earth."  
  
"Feeling better, Detective?"  
  
Elisa looks and sees Assistant District Attorney Margot Yale. "Yeah," she says. "I'll be on my feet by sunset."  
  
"What is that?" asks Yale, looking at the model helicopter Elisa is holding.  
  
"A friend gave it to me when he visited."  
  
"Well, I just want you to know that the deposition is postponed until the eighteenth. That's next Tuesday. Get well soon, Detective."  
  
Margot Yale leaves, and Elisa's parents come inside.  
  
"Mom. Dad," says Elisa. "So what is new?"  
  
"We have terrible news, Elisa," says Peter.  
  
"Daniel Rabb is dead," says Diane, tears gojng down her cheeks. "He was crushed in the collapse of the second tower. He was pronounced dead upon recovery."  
  
Memories float to the surface. Memories of Rabb playing cop to Elisa's, Derek's, and Beth's robbers. Memories of Rabb congratulating her graduation from high school. Memories of Rabb congratulating her graudating from the Police Academy. Memories of Rabb congratulating he making detective eight years ago. And then her very mind and soul is pierced by her mother's words.  
  
Elisa drops the model helicopter, which breaks into pieces upon hitting the white-tiled floor. 


	3. Funeral

Elisa Maza and Matt Bluestone go to the rooftop of the hospital where the Wyvern Gargoyle Clan has roosted for the day. Sunset is imminent, and the last rays of the sun for the day shine upon Manhattan.  
  
The statues crack, ands then the gargoyles roar as they burst from their stone skin.   
  
"Elisa," says Goliath. "I see you're up."  
  
"Good to see you on your feet, Matt," says Lexington.  
  
"Goliath," says Elisa, "I've something to tell you."  
  
"What is it?" asks the gargoyle leader.  
  
"My parents visited me earlier today. They told me Daniel Rabb was killed in the attack. I knew him most of my life."  
  
The two of them embrace with sorrow.  
  
Later that night, the gargoyles enter a conference room in the lower levels of Castle Wyvern.  
  
"Xanatos," says Goliath as hwe enters the room. "What is it?"  
  
"I've spoken with Mr. Duval of the Illuminati," says the billionaire industrialist.  
  
"The Illuminati?" asks Broadway. "Those are the guys Matt was talking about."  
  
"Duval told me about who was behind yesterday's attack." Xanatos goes on to explain about Al Qaeda.  
  
"And you trust him?" asks Goliath. "How much do you know about this Mr. Duval?"  
  
"All I know is that he is a high-standing member of the Illuminati. They have connections in American intelligence agencies. But as for trusting him, Duval has never lied to me. Whenever he told me something that I did not know before, it turned out to be true."  
  
"Xanatos, my clan and I all want to stop the people who did this. But I know nothing of Mr. Duval."  
  
"Very well then, Goliath. I am not asking you to trust him. Whether or not you choose to believe him is your business. The Illuminati want to recruit you in the elimination of Al Qaeda."  
  
"We should be careful, Goliath," says Hudson. "We have been duped before."  
  
"I can understand your trepidation in joining with the Illuminati. Here is Mr. Duval's card." David Xanatos hands Goliath a business card. "You can arrange a meeting with him by calling this number. Listen to him Goliath, and then make your decision."  
  
Goliath looks at the card. Its logo is a red trapezoid with a triangle on top. there is an eye in the triangle.  
  
"I could search the Internet for references to Al Qaeda," says Lexington. "I'll check the web sites as well as the CIA servers. I can get through their firewalls."  
  
"Good," says Brooklyn, "we'll need to get all the information we can."  
  
Officer Morgan is inside the office of the Twenty-third Precinct. He is typing a report on a Vaio personal computer. The office is quieter than usual, as yesterday's events are still at the surface of everyone's minds.  
  
"Elisa," he says, seeing Elisa in the precinct. "What brings you here now?"  
  
"I got tired sitting around in my apartment," says the detective. "What's that?"  
  
"Those are memorial ribbons for the eleven police officers from this precinct who were killed in yesterday's attack."  
  
Elisa goes to the wall where the ribbons are attached. Each ribbon has a name attached to it. She knew these people, worked with them. and now they are all dead, leaving being grieving friends and families. Just like Sergeant Daniel Rabb.  
  
"I could have been one of them," she whispers.   
  
"It could have happened to any of us," says Morgan. "The best thing we could do is to pick up the pieces and move on."  
  
"So this Illuminati believes that Al Qaeda was responsible for yesterday's attack," says Elisa.  
  
"Xanatos showed me the photographs," says Goliath. "I had Lexington search the Internet for references to Al Qaeda. Web pages from news organizations confirmed what the Illuminati told Xanatos. And the federal government believes Osama bin Laden was behind the attack. Still, all the information is being gathered. I can not take action until I have all the facts."  
  
"Is there any reason the Illuminati wanted Xanatos to tell you this?"  
  
"I am to call this number." Goliath takes out a business card. "Presumbaly, this Mr. Duval wants to arrange a meeting with my clan."  
  
"And then what?"  
  
"I don't know. I just hope I can trust this Mr. Duval."  
  
"It wouldn't hurt if you met with him. But there is one condition."  
  
Mr. Duval rides up the elevator to Castle Wyvern, accompanied by Owen Burnett.   
  
"Are they still up there?" asks Duval.  
  
"Yes, sir," says Owen. "The clan is up there, along with two others."  
  
The elevator opens to the courtyard. Duval sees a bunch of gargoyles, along with two humans, one in a red jacket and jeans, the other in a trench coat and a suit.  
  
"Hello there, I am Mr. Duval," he says.   
  
"I am the clan leader Goliath," says the lavendar gargoyle. "We wish to discuss your offer."  
  
Taps is played as the flag-draped coffin containing Daniel Rabb's body is lowered into a six-foot deep pit in a cemetery in Amityville, New York. The buglers are soldiers from the New York Army National Guard Band, all dressed in their dressed uniforms. Rabb;s wife and chikldren are attending the funeral, their souls still saturated with grief since Tuesday. Police officers from his precinct and others also attend, as well as people who had served with Rabb in the Vietnam War, some of them still in active duty in the U.S. Army.   
  
Detective Elisa Maza is one of the police in attendance. She wears a charcoal-gray suit for this occasion. She can not help but cry, and to feel pity for those who were closer to Sergeant Daniel Rabb than she was. And she was pretty close to him. Daniel Rabb attended her high school graduation, as well as the ceremony where she was officialy made a detective.   
  
Mrs. Rabb wails as the coffin is finally put to rest. Her three grown children hug her at this terrible moment, the climax of events that began September 11.   
  
Elisa wa;lks across the grass-ciovered ground and approaches the Rabbs. "I wish I could console you," she says.   
  
"I love him," says Mrs. Rabb. "How could they take Daniel away from me?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
She looks towards the west where Manhattan is. She had been at the meeting with the clan and Mr. Duval. Goliaht may very well decide to take on Al Qaeda. She wonders if they woulkd take Goliath away from her as well.  
  
Then the sorrow and fear are replaced by determination. She has to do this. They have to do this. It is what she and Goliath live for. 


End file.
